


Rhapsody in Blue

by Valhella



Category: Sense8
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Riley's a DJ, Will and Nomi are best friends, Will is a law school student, also background Wolfgang/Kala, also everyone is living in Chicago, background Amanita/Nomi, breaking up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4290831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valhella/pseuds/Valhella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wanted to go get drunk; instead he meets an Icelandic DJ. Riley's running away from her responsibilities; instead she meets a law major with a knack for looking at her like she's possibly the best thing in the world.</p><p>(or)</p><p>the one week Will spent being a walking sob story, the second he was living in an actual rom-com, the third he spent in a hospital, the fourth Riley thought it was her fault, and the fifth they stopped being idiots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhapsody in Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Whaaaaaat is this, I don't actually know. I fell in love with this show, and, subsequently with this ship. So please enjoy this late-night mess.
> 
> I did a lot of late night google searches for this too, so pls take everything in stride.

**Week O1; or, a successful attempt on Nomi's part and a begrudging agreement on Will's**

Seconds turn to minutes, minutes turn to hours, hours to days, days to weeks - and he still sits on his ass watching reruns of _Project Runway_.

He respected all of Nomi's hard work, down to the exaggerated eye rolls and the impatient sighs, to get him out of his apartment when he wasn't attending class, and didn't fully doubt Amanita's threats to hoist him over her tiny shoulder and drag him into the sunlight. ("Neets, I'm like, a foot taller than you." "I don't care, fight me.")

But truth be told, it was _Nomi and Amanita_. They've been head over heels for each other for the past five years. Heartbreak, by this time, must have been an entirely new concept to the both of them. And as cliche as it sounds, for him, it was constant, it was lingering, and it felt like it would never go away. Not really. 

Nomi and Amanita swing by every other day, making sure he hasn't melted into a lump of pure misery. They both sigh at the mess around them. Give me _some_ credit, he demands, alluding to his change of sweatpants.

"Diego says he didn't see you in constitutional law this morning. What the fuck, Will?" Nomi remarks one time.

"I had a headache."

"Should I be surprised? From all this shit you've been stuffing down your throat?" The shit, of course, being the delightful combination of cold beer and twinkies.

He practically has to drag himself out his apartment, get coffee, _maybe_ go for a run, go to class, get back. Human contact was a no-no.

Which, by week two, Nomi had finally had enough of. She calls him around six, when he's staring at his ceiling - Tim Gunn's distinct voice saying he's concerned over a designer's choice to use neon green in their work droning on the TV - and he picks up, 'cause if there's anybody he'll never press the ignore button to, it's Nomi.

He grumbles a "Yeah?"

"Will? Hey -"

There's a shuffle on the phone and then he hears Amanita's voice. "Will! Will, ok, listen - I know you're depressed over Sara, what the hell's new - but, hey - Wolfgang, right, he's treating all of us to a night at that new place that's opened up downtown, _Sense8_. He's friends with the DJ or whatever, so he's basically comped us tickets!"

What the fuck, actually, made them think that spending hours surrounded by a hundred sweaty people and listening to music that would ring in his ears the next morning would cheer him up?

"I don't know," he says, flatly.

"Pleaaaassseee!" Amanita practically begs.

Then the phone's back to Nomi. "Will, come on - you might meet someone new!"

He wants to say, _"I don't wanna meet someone new, I wanna see Sara."_ But he's actually scared Amanita might materialize out of nowhere and punch him in the face.

If there's one thing he doesn't wanna do, it's to make Nomi feel like all her hard work's gone to shit. So he runs a hand down his face and takes a breath. "Yeah."

He has to pull away from his phone for Amanita's excessive cheering.

Nomi gives a little squeal. "So listen, Wolfgang's coming around nine, he's bringing Kala. Wear something nice!"

Then she's gone, and Will's left to lean back onto his couch and whisper "Fuck."

 

.

 

Clubbing's not something he does everyday, because it's usually for horny people and newly turned twenty-one-year-olds, and he was perfectly satisfied grabbing coffee with Sara, _thank you very fucking much._ So it's not a surprise that he's completely dumbfounded on what to wear. Five, six, seven shirts accumulate on his bed before he slips on a grey shirt and army hoodie, clad with some jeans a pair of sneakers. Then he's left questioning his life choices on his bed - face in his pillow and everything - when he hears a knock on the door.

Nomi's there when he opens it, looking otherworldly (honestly though - where was the news?). "Will!" she says.

He grumbles something that sounds like "Hey."

"Look," she says, and they link arms. "I'm gonna give you one more out. If you really don't wanna go I'm not gonna force anything. I just don't wanna see you - well, just fucking _deteriorate_."

He smiles at her. "You're not gonna regulate my alcohol, are you?"

"No, but if you're gonna barf, I'll drag you to the stalls if I have to."

He gives a shaky laugh, and they're out his apartment.

 

.

 

Wolfgang's car is already around the corner, all black and everything, and when he rolls the windows down, Will's not surprised to see him in a black leather jacket and shades. "Will, my friend! I was beginning to think you had died."

"Hi, Will!" Kala enthusiastically adds, leaning over to wave.

"Wolfgang!" he says. "Nice to see you still haven't heard of primary colors." Nomi pinches him.

"Don't forget, man," Wolfgang says in a singsong voice that wouldn't be so goddamn annoying if it wasn't for the German accent. "I'm your ride home."

He squeezes in next to Amanita, who's in a band tank top and skater skirt, and then Nomi shuffles in, so he's right in the middle.

Kala turns from the backseat. "How are you, Will?"

He shrugs. "Life's been kinder. How are you, Kala?"

" _Well_ ," she remarks, and her eyes practically roll into her head, "I've had to deal with stupid parents who don't want their kids vaccinated all day.  _So_. Life's been kinder," she says, and she flashes him a smile.

"Alright, listen!" Wolfgang says. "I don't wanna hear any depressing shit, I don't wanna  _deal_ with any depressing shit, we're all gonna get shitfaced drunk and we're all gonna have a good time."

"Your definition of a 'good time' is breaking into a public pool and swimming. Naked," Will adds.

"Germans don't make such a big deal out of nudity. We're not uptight like you Americans."

"And, correction?" Amanita chimes in. " _Will_ is going to get shitfaced drunk.  _You_ are the ride home."

 Wolfgang mutters something in German, probably cursing the fact that he's the designated driver, and then they're off.

 

.

 

He's not enjoying himself. They've looped the same Skrillex album for a full hour and drinks - well, the hard kind, cost an arm and leg.

Nomi and Amanita spend the entire night on the dance floor, high off the adrenaline.

Wolfgang perches himself on a very big speaker and screams that he's in love with Kala Dandekar, making Will question whether he'll be driving them home as promised. People who are drunk enough to care cheer, and Will props himself on a bar stool and scrolls through his texts.

_**will!!!!! are u havin fun???** _

_**meet anybody???** _

_**are u drunk!!!? i am drunk!!!!!!!!!!!** _

Then the guilt surfaces, because the whole group came out because of him and he's not even having a good time. He orders a beer and prays that nobody finds him moping at the bar. The two girls on his right are giggling, not doing a very good job of subtlety as they argue on who should ask for his number, probably - and then a girl to his left unceremoniously drops her bag on the counter and leans over. "Hey, Shugs!"

The bartender smiles up at her. "Riles!"

"Just a water, please," she says. Will detects an accent; not strong like Wolfgang's, but definitely still European. She's gorgeous; slim, pale, with silver-blonde hair and a streak of blue.

And in the first time in two weeks, he's enamored.

He thinks.

Sara's at the back of his mind somewhere, but this girl's at the front. She's gorgeous - _did he say that already_ \- and he needs a number, a name, anything.

Will's torn; _say something, you fucking idiot_ \- _wait, no, don't sound desperate_ \- _shit -_

"Hello," she says, and he physically restrains himself from letting out a sigh of relief.

"Hey there," he says.

He's not this shit at conversation, he reminds himself. He can usually carry one, make one last. What about this chick had him so goddamn dumbfounded?

"I don't wanna sound intrusive, but you look pretty depressed for a guy who's managed to book a ticket at one of the biggest club openings of the year."

"Didn't book it. Friend did. Well, friend of a friend..."

"Did they drag you here?" she inquires, and he's completely captivated by how her green eyes look up at him, imploring.

"Sort of, yeah..." he laughs. "Er, I'm Will."

"Riley!" she says. "Nice to meet you, Will. What brings you here? Or, rather, what made your friends drag you along?"

"I haven't left my apartment in an 'alarming' amount of time," he explains, air quotation marks and everything.

She lets out a little laugh and brushes a strand of hair from her face. "You don't want to be here, and I don't want to be here, not really. I know this really quiet place right outside, if you want to join me?"

Will honestly can't believe what he's hearing. "I'm sorry, but are you even real?"

"I've been in this scenario many times," she explains. "Let me guess? You don't want to leave the house, right? Something's happened, something none of your friends can really understand and you just want to isolate yourself. Then you agree to a night out and it's shit. You don't get drunk, like you plan. Everybody else is having a good time and you don't want to be the whiny bitch who wants to go home. All of it, I've been through. And that's what I sense with you. So naturally, my radar went off." 

"Pretty good radar sense," he laughs.

"I'll be outside if you want to join me for a smoke," she says, then she props her bag back on her shoulder, gives him a pat of encouragement, and heads to a backdoor.

"I've been trying to get into that for months, so I'd do it, if I were you," the bartender casually observes.

Will glances back; at Wolfgang, who's planting Kala sloppy kisses on her cheek; at Amanita, who's still dancing; at Nomi, who's having an in depth discussion with another girl despite the overbearing dubstep; and he's out the door.

 

.

 

"Depressed guy!" Riley casually remarks once he's out the door. It's a dump, and there's about six or seven other pairs of people, but it's better than indoors.

"Cigarette?" she offers.

Will shakes his head. "No, I, uh, don't smoke. I mean, I did. Bad habit. Once I get one in I'll never stop."

"Oh," she says nonchalantly. Then she drops her cigarette, still freshly lit, and crushes it with her boot. "Can't have that, can we."

Will decides: he's in love.

He thinks.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" he pipes.

She can't help it; she laughs. "That was fast."

He shrugs. "I don't know. We're just standing out here doing nothing. Might as well, right?"

She laughs again. "Will." The way she enunciates his name in that strange accent that he still can't place - Norwegian? Swedish? Some part of Scandinavia, he concludes - sends really stupid butterflies to his stomach."I can't, I'm sorry."

"Sorry. Very straightforward on my part."

"I mean, I'd love to," she admits, and he feels a bit better about himself. "But I've got a set to do.

"You're the DJ here?"

"The one and only," she says. "And the crowd waits, so I'm afraid I have to go."

"The crowd waits," he repeats. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"At his place? Are you fucking kidding? You hate it here."

"Around town."

"Chicago's not a small place. Here," she hands him her phone. "Type your number in, I'll give you a text, and you can save mine. Maybe we could grab coffee tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'd love that," he says, heart racing. He punches the numbers in - hands it back - then she flashes him a smile, says, "Cool, I'll see you," and disappears back through the door.

He leans up against the wall, almost completely thrown off by what's just happened, by how quickly his "i-fucking-hate-my-life" demeanor pretty much evaporates. "Fuuuuuuuck."

 

.

 

Wolfgang honors his promise, but Will's too happy about Riley to be pissed about the fact that he has to eat his words.

"So as it turns out, you didn't need alcohol to tell a whole room of people you're in love with Kala Dandekar," he says, shifting his phone in his pocket.

Wolfgang yawns and opens the car door. "True love in it's purest form, my dear William."

He's in between Amanita and Nomi again; Amanita's leaning against the window, already dozing off, probably from all the dancing; Nomi's resting her head on Will's shoulder. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

His phone beeps, and he sits upright.

_**it was great to meet you, Will!!!! this is Riley. remember to save my number. and how about that cup of coffee??** _

He smiles, and aims his phone away from any of them. _**looking forward to it.**_

 

\---

 

**Week 02; or, Wolfgang is actually the best person in the world  
**

Nomi swings by the morning for what she's been doing the past week - check up on him, and then maybe raid his fridge. "We went out so that you'd forget all about Sara, get laid and then maybe shitfaced, and you're _not_ hungover. Who the hell did you meet?" She demands, taking another spoonful of vanilla yogurt.

Will's dumbfounded. " _What?_ "

"I have known you since high school, Will fucking Gorski, do not think you can lie to me." A splotch of vanilla yogurt flicks on his nose as she waves her spoon accusingly in his face.

"I'm not lying, I'm just..." - he wipes the yogurt off his nose -"OK, she's really pretty."

Nomi sits up and gestures for him to go on.

"Swedish, I think? Maybe Norwegian...blonde, like almost silver, with a blue streak, tall, pale, her name's Riley -"

" _Blue_?" Nomi interrupts.

"I didn't get a last name? She DJ'd the other night-"

"Yeah, Riley Blue! She and Wolfgang are neighbors or some shit, that's how we got the tickets."

"No fucking way," Will says. "You're telling me the best thing to happen to me all week was because of _Wolfgang_?"

 "Stranger things are known to happen."

"I guess."

"So, what, did you get a number?"

"She gave me her's."

"And what's with the shit-eating grin?"

He runs a hand down his face in a weak attempt to prevent the oncoming blush. "I don't know...she said we could get coffee later today."

"Shiiiiiiitt," Nomi coos. "Amanita is hearing about this first. Maybe Wolfgang. I'm definitely texting Kala. And Lito, he's just getting back from L.A. and he's gonna shit his pants when I tell him you actually went clubbing."

 

.

 

They go to one of those indie coffee shops with the "my-band-is-performing-tonight-please-come-watch" flyers on the front.

Riley likes her coffee black, just like Will. It's nice to sit down and drink it with somebody who doesn't feel the need to drop unnecessary comments ("Were you never loved as a child?" - Wolfgang, three weeks earlier.)

She tells him about her life in Iceland, where she's from. How her mother died when she was barely ten, how her father is a renowned pianist, how she'd sit with her coloring books on the rug every time he'd compose a new piece, how she came to Chicago no more than a year ago for a "fresh start."

He tells her about Sara. How they were in and out of each others apartments for four years. How they knew each other from as early as second grade. How it hurt more than any other break-up that they couldn't even stay friends, because she's finishing her degree in London and he's wasting away in Shit-town, USA. How, as was expected, she met somebody else. How it hurt him to tell her to be happy with that somebody else and that he completely understood. How the last two weeks without her familiar knocks on his door and her taste on his lips made him want to shut himself away forever.

"You tell yourself you're not gonna take that shit so seriously," he explains. "That's the worst part. You do. And you're not just completely cast down, you also feel like a complete fucking idiot."

Riley puts her hand on his. 

"Anyway," he says. "What made you want to come here?"

She gives a shaky laugh and drops eye contact. "Oh, you know. Only so many terrible things can happen in one place before you decide it isn't home anymore."

"And you chose...Chicago?"

"It's the least like Reykjavik."

"Suppose it is."

It's quiet for a while. Will wants to go deeper - find out about Iceland, what happened, what she's hiding, but he doesn't prod any further. There was a certain way she spoke about home; the way her voice went low, the way her eyebrows tried not to wrinkle, the way she stifled an oncoming sob with a sniff. There was something.

" _So_. Law school?" she inquires after a sip.

"Oh, uh, yeah," he laughs.

"Did you always know you wanted to be a lawyer?"

"I always knew I wanted to help people," he explained. "My dad's a cop. Well, was. He was kind of cut off short. A bullet in the leg made sure of that."

"Oh," Riley says. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Eh," he says. "I'd say, getting into Chicago Law on a scholarship and making Dean's two semesters in a row has kept him away from the booze."

They sit there for about two more hours, just talking about their lives; their likes, their dislikes, before they call it a day, because she has a shift and he's got a paper to write. She stands on her toes and plants a kiss on his cheek. And the way it tingles, for longer than expected, even when she pulls away, let's Will know he's in love - or, in other words,  _fucked._

 

.

 

They're at his apartment, and Riley's looking through his records.

"You picked the best place for music," Will says as she flips over Pink Floyd's _The Dark Side of the Moon_. "Chicago's great. It's crowded as hell, but I guess that's why everybody's always coming here to perform."

"Iceland's different. There's more people in this city than there are in the whole country."

"I'm sure it's lovely , though. I've kind of forgotten what it's like to not be surrounded by so many people. Also, I want to see that volcano nobody knows how to pronounce."

"Eyjafjallajokull," Riley states.

"God bless you," Will retorts.

She laughs, then she's drowned out by the afternoon rush of the L. He doesn't want to laugh at how she jumps and lets out a bit of a yelp - it's not fair, considering she's grown up in Iceland (and, honestly, what the hell happens in Iceland?) - but he can't help it.

She runs to his window. "How can you sleep here?"

"Get used to it, I suppose."

They stand there, silent. The L vanishes in what seems like less than a second; and then they're left there with their thoughts, with the silence, and Will can't take it anymore.

He grazes his fingers - gently - on hers, until they go up her wrist. She shivers at his touch, then she turns. Slowly, but surely, her hands go to his cheek, and all that's left to be heard is their heavy breathing before their lips clash.

And Will swears, nothing better is ever gonna happen to him.

 

.

 

Amanita doesn't believe all they do is kiss. Nomi, who knows Will better, is the only one who isn't surprised. Kala's possibly more excited than he is. Wolfgang congratulates him on "becoming a man", grabs him by the shoulders and smacks kisses on each cheek before sealing it off with a celebratory smack on the ass. Must be a German thing.

They're not there to talk about him and Riley; they're at the airport to pick up Lito, who's just flown in from L.A. with his artist boyfriend Hernando after his successful art exhibit.

They're in the terminal and Will just wants to get through pages 50-55 of his stupid textbook because he's going to get quizzed on intellectual property law in about two hours, but the questions keep coming.

Nomi explains that they've basically been friends with a "zombie" for the past few weeks before Riley and that they were scared he'd never leave his apartment again. So, naturally, when they can tell he's head-over-heels stupid in love, and when he does a _shit_ job hiding it, they need to know everything.

His phone beeps and Kala says, "I bet that's her right now!"

"It's not her," Will says, and then he looks down and shit - it's her.

**_will!!!!!! i'm not on till later. maybe i could look at more of your records?_ **

Don't blush, you fucking idiot. You're a grown man, not some sappy school girl -

"Aw, you're showing her around your collection? Now I know it's serious," Nomi says.

 _ **sounds**_ **great** , he texts back. **_i'm actually a bit busy tonight. we've got a friend over from la and we've gotta catch up._**

"Not a problem," Wolfgang says. "Tell her she can tag along. Lito would love her." Then he takes out his phone.

Will's hesitant. "I don't know-"

"Too late," he says, then turns his phone around to show Will the text. _**riles, we're having a small get together with a friend, you'd love him. at me and kala's. would love to see capheus and sun.**_

There's that unmistakable urge to press his hands down Wolfgang's neck till the kicking stopped, a feeling he's grown accustomed to over the past few years, before moral sense kicks in. 

When Lito arrives, Will's the first off his ass, and he hugs him, kisses both cheeks uncharacteristically, before he's off to do the same with Hernando.

But that goes to shit, because Lito knows the whole story before they even get back to his apartment.

 

.

 

The night's not half bad. They're at Kala and Wolfgang's place; Kala's on her shift, so she's constantly texting to make sure the place is still in one piece. Wolfgang takes out the karaoke machine and gives a rendition of "What's Up?" by Four Non Blondes that isn't terrible (by karaoke standards).

Riley introduces Will to her two friends - Capheus Van Damme, an engineering student from Kenya who's just as cool as his name; and Sun Bak, who runs a Taekwando studio not too far from Chicago Law.

They both call him "depressed guy" - so Will's under the impression Riley told them about him long before this particular get together.

"I like you, Will," Capheus straight up says. "You make my Riley happy. And god knows how long I've wanted to see a smile on her face."

When the two of them are later challenged to surpass Wolfgang's "staggering" score of 78, Will goes outside, where Wolfgang's staring over the balcony with a cigarette, looking like some German mafia overlord. "You're welcome, William."

Will doesn't even have to ask what the fuck he's talking about. He just looks at Riley, the way she's chatting away with Amanita and Nomi about her and Will's glorious run-in at _Sense8_ the week previous. "Thanks."

 

.

 

"It's a girl, isn't it." It doesn't sound like a question even though it's supposed to be. But the way Diego's looking at him, one eyebrow arched, lets Will know he isn't fucking around.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Oh, cut the shit." Diego slams _The Rule of Law._ "You've been mopy all goddamn month ever since that Sara chick. Come on, man. Don't lie to me. You really gonna be this way to the only person who'll talk to you intellectual property law?"

"Think whatever you want, man."

"Oh, I will, Gorski. And I'm thinking it's a girl. Who's this lucky lady? Or man?"

 _"_ Fine, it's a girl," Will clarifies. "Just hope, for me, that I don't fuck it up."

"Oh, come on. That chiseled jaw and all-American boy demeanor you have going on? You're all set."

 

\---

 **Week 03** _ **;**_ **or** , **the subliminal rules of dating**

 They're not  _dating_. Or they don't say they are. But she comes over his place more often than she should, and she sleeps overnight in his t-shirts. He's over at her place occasionally. She loiters outside Chicago Law so they can go get black coffee every other afternoon, and people want to know who the blonde girl with the oversized blue earphones and band tees is. 

And yeah, they kiss every time they meet up, like couples do.

Nomi smiles every time Will's phone beeps, because 90% of the time it's her.

Will's not sure how he can be in love with somebody he doesn't know that much about.

But he is, and it's heaven.

 

.

 

"How do you know when you love someone?" she practically demands one time.

They're making lasagna in his kitchen - well, _attempting_ \- Will's thrown away the little box with instructions and picked it out of the trash three times now. "Huh?"

"You know," she prods. "Like, how do you know you love me?"

He shrugs. "How do you know you love _me_?"

She shrugs back. "I like everything about you. I like your eyes, your smile. Your records. The way your face lights up when you talk about school, how your dad's proud of everything you do. I like how you come to watch me DJ even though you hate crowds. Even though you hate my music."

"I don't _hate_ your music," Will says defensively.

"Would you like it if you knew I wasn't the one making it?"

"Guess not. It's a you thing, definitely."

She laughs, then she's quiet. "How do you know I'm good for you, Will?"

He slams the oven door a little harder than he should have, because he's just so taken aback by the severity of the question. The past two weeks he's been spending with her he's been thinking how he's good enough for _her,_ the mess that he was. "I just do."

"That's not really an answer."

"It is to me," he shrugs. He turns the oven heat to 350; then he turns her around from the counter, so she's facing him. "I know the way you make me smile, the way you make me laugh, the way I'm able to get through _intellectual property law_ just so we can go grab black coffee later makes me happy."

He thinks that's the answer she wants, because she doesn't bring it up again, and they spend the evening watching  _Game of Thrones_ with homemade lasagna. 

 

.

 

He's out of constitutional law half an hour early by friday, because Professor Maliki's dropped a pop quiz that's surprisingly not that hard, and while he's finishing his essay question he makes plans to drop by Riley's.

He's greeted, though, by the unwelcome sight of another man - which doesn't piss him off, not like the way he sees this guy's death grip on her forearm.

"Please, Nyx. Please calm down."

"I'm not fucking around, Riley. I know you have it."

"What the fuck's this?" Will says, and he doesn't break eye contact with the guy as he lets go, slowly, of Riley's arm.

"I'd say mind your own fucking business," he spits.

"How about I call the cops and have your ass out of this building in five minutes, flat."

"And who the hell are you?"

"The guy who's going to knock your teeth out if you touch her like that again," he says, calm. He turns to Riley. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she says quickly. "Please, Nyx. Please, just leave."

"I'd take the advice," Will interjects.

"Nyx" - or whoever this guy is - laughs. "I'll be back. And next time - you will have my money."

 

.

 

"I thought I'd never see him again," she explains, tracing his bare chest as they lie in his bed. He's decided it's best to sleep at his place for the night, just until things simmer down. "It was months ago, Will. I just finished doing a set and this guy - Jack, that's all I know him as - he took me to his place, and, I don't know - they were being stupid, doing drugs, and I heard gunshots. And when I took my earphones out and ran to the living room...they were dead. Or, I thought they were. And by the time I left, I found all the money, all the drugs, everything. I kept the money, but I dumped the drugs...all of it. I thought Nyx was dead. Then he starts turning up at my doorstep again. And I don't have the money."

Will doesn't know how to respond, and it's a shit feeling. Tonight, he can only hold her and keep his door double locked.

 

.

 

It's brash and unreasonable, the way he jumps to conclusions and runs to her apartment from his class (earning a look from Professor Maliki in the process) when he texts her once, twice, three and then four times - all with inquiries about how she was, since she's back in her apartment - and there isn't a response.

He's right to do it, though, because he hears thuds and a shriek when he gets there - and after bursting his way in, he sees Riley, up against a wall, a hand on her neck, Nyx in her face. He's holding money; money that doesn't belong to him, probably.

Riley mouths, "Please go."

But Will lunges at Nyx, topples him over, gets him off Riley and pins him to the ground. They struggle for a while, then Nyx pulls something from his ankle - something strapped - he realizes, _oh fuck_ \- then the shot goes off.

He breathes. He falls. He hears Nyx run out of the door. And Riley's scream as he hits the floor.

Riley's on the floor next to him, then the world's gone.

 

.

 

Nomi's there first, because Riley knows that's who Will would've called. And naturally, through Nomi, Amanita's there; then Wolfgang, Lito with Hernando, and for Riley, Capheus and Sun; Kala's a given, since she works on the floor. Diego, eventually, swings by after his night class.

It's not fatal, Kala says. Just a shoulder wound. He's not in a coma; just on a sedative. They're all now waiting, because the only visitors they're taking in are family, so he's with his dad.

Nyx is tracked down, and they're considering attempted murder. He's got a history of drugs (surprise, surprise), so that's under consideration as well - the cops talk to Riley, and let her off as a witness, since no actual drugs are found in her apartment.

She's in and out all day, even when Kala says she'll call him when he regains consciousness. She's on three, four, five cups of black coffee - but falls asleep in the waiting room anyway.

Then she goes home, takes a shower and lies in bed, the fear of Nyx behind her.

 

\---

 **Week 04;**   **or, **the subliminal rules of dating (pt. ii)****

"I'm fine, Noms. They gave me a shit ton of oxy. I'm fine."

"Strangely, that's not reassuring."

It's a "welcome home" party - of sorts. He's let out two days earlier than intended with strict instructions from Kala to keep the wound bandaged at all times, and to wash it if necessary. Amanita buys a customized cake with the words "Get Well Soon" in white icing; Lito and Hernando buy a banner that says "welcome home" and hang it up across his living room.

"I'd say that fucker is safer in a prison and not out in the city where I can murder him at any given opportunity," Wolfgang says casually.

"I can't believe this," Lito remarks after he hugs Will. "Your first girl after that mess with Sara and you get shot in the shoulder."

"The universe hates me," Will shrugs.

He pulls out his phone and picks the top of his contact list. _**riles, hey. i'm out of the hospital!! noms and neets are here. wolfgang and kala too. you dropping by?**_

He assumes she's on shift, because there's no response. Then Sun and Capheus come bearing "good tidings" (booze), and Will slides over to Sun. "Hey, Sun. Where's Riley?"

"She's safe," Sun says. "Back in her flat. These last few days have been a bit hectic for her, Will. Give her time."

 

.

 

She shows up at his place the next day, black coffee from their favorite coffee place in one hand, a helium-filled "get well soon" balloon in the other. But there's something off, particularly with the way she turns when he tries to kiss her, so he's left with a slight brush of his lips on her cheek. "Riley, are you alright?"

"Sometimes," she says.

"I haven't seen you in a couple days. I've been texting, did you get any of those?"

"I'm sorry," she says. "But I've...been busy. Thinking."

He doesn't like where this conversation is headed. "Riley-"

"I'm toxic, Will," she says flatly. "Listen to me. I'm toxic."

He takes her face in his hands. "What are you talking about?"

"It's like a curse. I'm cursed. I got you involved in my life, and you almost died. I got you involved in my life, and you got shot." She reaches up, slowly, removes his hands from her face and places them on his own chest. "Please don't make this hard."

"Hey, enough," he says. "That Nyx guy? That wasn't _your_ life. That was just some stupid shit, something you had no control over."

"And everything in Reykjavik," she continues. "Everything that's happened. I can't be around people without them getting hurt. Somehow. _I'm toxic_."

"No," he says, adamant. He traces his fingers on hers, right when he realizes they're at his window, when he did it first, when the L passed by. He's trying to keep it together; he knows where this is going. He knows how it ends. "Why else would I have fallen in love with you?."

"That's it. That's all it is. I've fooled you into thinking I'm not. This is the worst part. Where I tell you I am." She's sobbing, and he realizes this is the first time he's seen her cry; the first time since the week they met and the happy weeks that followed, when she would try her best not to talk about home, about her life. "I'm not good enough for you, Will. Not for anybody."

"No, Riley, listen to me - I _love_ you."

Everything's calm and she breathes: "Don't."

His world shatters when she's out the door. The black coffee sits on the window sill, cold.

 

.

 

He's holed up in his apartment again, Tim Gunn on the TV. Everything's the same, except for the flesh wound on his shoulder.

He's back on square one. _And it fucking sucks_.

 _ **riley, please.**_ he texts her one time.

_**it wasn't your fault.** _

_**none of this was your fault.** _

_**i'm fine. i want this. i want us to be together. please.** _

He's microwaving ramen when his phone beeps. **_I love you, Will._ ** is all it says.

 

.

 

Nomi and Amanita come by; Nomi has Chinese takeout, Amanita has a stack of DVDs that she lets Will pick from. They end up with _Big Hero 6,_ and Baymax and Fall Out Boy make him happy for a while, but the long term sadness comes back and hits him like a brick, and by the end of the night, he's on his couch again, empty beer bottles in clutters on the floor.

Nomi sits on the other end of the couch and places her hand, slowly, on his. "Sara e-mailed me yesterday."

He's put off by how weeks ago, he would happily sit up at this information and bombard Nomi with an alarming amount of questions, but now, every other body part that isn't stuffing Doritos into his mouth is pretty much still. "Oh."

"Yeah. She wanted to ask how you were, since you weren't responding to her messages. I told her you weren't ignoring her. That you were shot in the shoulder and have been in and out of the hospital the whole week."

"Hmmm."

"So that pretty much warranted a freak out." They just sit for a while. Then she gives his hand a squeeze. "I'm not gonna tell you to get over it. Because that would make me the worst person in the world. Just, please don't fall into another bottomless pit of despair."

The night ends with two kisses on his cheek; one from Amanita, the other from Nomi, then he's back to moping.

 

.

 

Professor Maliki asks about his shoulder the next day, because since Will didn't want news to get out that he got shot in the shoulder by some drug dealer to spread around campus, it naturally does. He gives him a rundown on what he's missed the past week and then asks if he's OK. He says he is; he also lies through his teeth.

He's walking down his usual route when he sees Sun padlocking the front of the Taekwando training center.

"Sun! Hey, Sun." He runs up to her.

"Will," she says. "I was just locking up. How are you?"

"Been better. Listen-"

"Riley's fine," she says, almost immediately. Will turns an embarrassing shade of pink, but she smiles and gives him a chuckle. "Listen, as a friend of her's for years now, can I tell you something?"

He shrugs. "Shoot."

"She's been punishing herself for years, Will. She doesn't think she deserves to be happy."

"Doesn't deserve - ?" he's caught off guard by what she says, completely.

"Do you think you could convince her otherwise?"

"That's all I've been trying to do."

"Maybe you'll succeed where Capheus and I failed."

"Can I ask you why?" he says.

She gives him an insistent look. "I'm afraid it's not my story to tell." She gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and hoists her gym bag over her shoulder. "Take care of that shoulder, Will."

Then she's gone, and she leaves him with his thoughts.

 

.

 

The phone rings long enough for him to start begging, "Don't pick up, don't pick up..."-

Then there's an unmistakably familiar "Hello?" on the other end.

 _Fuck_. "Sara, uh, hey."

"Will? Oh my god, Nomi told me everything!"

"Oh, uh," he gives a normal laugh. "I'm fine, really, I am."

"Don't just say that. Really, are you OK?"

He sighs. "Yeah, Sara, I'm fine. It's just a flesh wound. All I gotta do is get it checked out every couple days to make sure it doesn't get infected. And it's a hell of a lot easier when you've got Kala Dandekar as a friend," he adds, in a pathetic attempt to make the mood of their conversation more light.

"How did it happen?" Sara inquires.

He pinches the area between his eyes. "Oh, uh. You know. Drugs," he says, stupidly.

"What - what the fuck? Jesus, Will, really?"

"Jesus, no, I mean - not on my end," he corrects. He's debating whether or not to tell her about Riley - when he remembers she's probably calling him while her boyfriend's making some perfect English breakfast in the background - and he goes, "Yeah, it's this girl I've been seeing-" ( _was_ seeing? He still didn't know) - "I don't know, she owed this guy money. Things got a bit out of hand. Didn't like the way he was holding his hands around her neck, I suppose," he finishes, weak laugh and everything.

"Jesus, Will."

"Yeah. Things have been kinda crazy since you left."

She sighs. "I thought we've both been happy."

It would be a complete lie to say he hasn't experienced happiness _since_ she left; sure, there were the two weeks of complete and total depression, but he's been completely taken up with Riley, from living out an actual rom-com all the way down to him getting _shot in the fucking shoulder._

He thinks about his response; then, "Yeah, I'm happy." He isn't holed up in his apartment anymore, he reasons. He's made new friends. The whole gang's in Chicago, and there's Riley ( _was_ Riley?), who he hasn't completely given up on.

He senses an eyebrow raise on the other end. "Then I'm happy too."

They catch up on the last month for another twenty minutes before she's off to her classes.

 

 

_**\---** _

**Week 05;** **or** , **back to square one** _  
_

_Things could be better_.

He and Riley are back to texting, so they're not just communicating awkwardly through friends. It's a start.

 _ **hows your shoulder?**_ _ **xxx**_ , she asks him one time. it's a demotion from the usual banter they have. The jokes, the whiny grievances about how nobody else in the world takes their coffee black, the complaints on Riley's end about having to deal with drunk people at _Sense8_ and the complaints on Will's about not meeting the word count on his essays.

 _ **fine, haha. painkillers are the best invention in the**_ _**world.**  _It's a stupid text; he knows it; he presses send anyway.

_**glad you're OK. (:** _

Except he's not; not really.  _Things could be better_ , he reminds himself.  _They could be._

In the morning, he runs with Diego. Then there's afternoon classes, and hopefully a night out with the gang if he's free. Everything's back to normal, pretty much. They just could be better.

 

.

 

It's unbelievable how quickly things turn around.

He's working on his midterms, then there's a knock, and he's thinking Nomi.

But there she stands; bleached blonde hair and everything. He's speechless. "Riley?"

"Will," she says. She's smiling, but he can't tell why - he's just happy she's alright. _So fucking happy._ "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, please," he says.

He shuts the door behind him once she's inside. "Are you alright?" she asks.

"Sometimes," he says.

"Sun told me she saw you around town. I was just wondering how you were doing..." she's just standing there, still. "I have no excuses."

"Riley, no - please -"

"No, Will. I have no excuses. I can tell you I shouldn't have done what I did but that's not enough. I just want you to understand something. The last thing I ever wanted to do was cause you more pain."

He doesn't wanna lie to her - it wasn't just the flesh wound in his shoulder that had been a hassle all week. Subconsciously, he grabs at the band aid that covers the wound. "I know that."

"It was so stupid, what I did. How I completely disregarded what kind of state you were in. About Sara."

"No, listen," he says. "I should've taken regard for the state you were in. I was just so wrapped up in my own problems. I wanted to be happy, I guess. I rushed. I should've thought about you. Especially since I knew something was off."

"I shouldn't have ended things the way I did." she returns. "I mean. You had a bullet in your arm," she says. He winces at the crack in her voice - the one that means she's about to break down.

"What happened...how things ended," he clarifies. "It was like a fucking knife in the gut." He laughs it off. "I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but...damn it, Riley, I'm in love with you." _It felt so goddamn good to say_. He'd say it over and over again if he didn't have a point to make. "I love you. You're the first thing that's made me happy in weeks. You make me happy, Riley. I _love_ you."

She smiles through the tears, through the heavy eyeliner making it's way down her cheeks. "How can you love someone like me?"

"How can't I?" it's the cheesiest thing he's ever said, he's sure. He knows it is, too, because of the way she scrunches her nose and laughs. Then she runs at him, arms out, and he catches her, and they're locked in a tight embrace, noses buried in each others necks. It's perfect, the way he lifts her so she's just a bit taller than him. "Can I get a kiss?"

She obliges more than willingly.

 

_._

 

"His name was Magnus," she tells him one night. "Magnus Porsson. He was the most beautiful man I knew. He was tall, and his hair, it was golden. I still remember the first time he asked me out. We were in school, and he rode a horse in, right into the lobby. He sang this Icelandic poem to me and everything. Then he picked me up in it. We were escorted out of the building, obviously. Even that sort of thing isn't allowed in Iceland."

They're back at the same indie coffee shop, sipping away. He still has checkups and band aid changes; she's still DJ-ing at _Sense8_ ; she still drops by his place and looks at his records; he drops by hers and watches her make beats; they lie in bed together when they're not out with the gang; and everything's perfect.

She continues: "We were driving from Hafnarfjordur, another town. Stupid night to drive, but I wanted to get back. We both did. So we drove, and then the snowstorm came on. I was complaining that I was cold. That I didn't bring a big enough sweater like I should have. Magnus took his seat belt off so that he could give me his. We were fine for a while, until he swerved. We went off the road and the car fell over. It was almost instant, how we went. One second we're, the next, there's a crack in the glass and blood on his forehead, and I knew he was gone. I had to crawl out of the car, run until I could find a signal. And they brought me to a hospital. What they told me was that there was one stupid difference between why I survived, and he didn't. I was wearing my seat belt. He wasn't."

He covers his hand over her's, and she trembles under his touch.

"I try not to think it was my fault. I know that's what he'd tell me if he was alive. But he'd be wrong. I wanted to go to Hafnarfjordur...I wanted to drive back home...everything that happened that night, was because of my stupid decision."

He slides his hand up to her cheek, and brushes a stray hair from her face. She looks up at him, eyes watery. "Listen," he says. "I'm going to tell you something everybody else probably beat me to. But Riley, it wasn't your fault."

She feels against his hand and puts her own hand to lock his in place, as if in fear he's going to let go.

"I know what happened that night was terrible. That sometimes, you want to lie down and never get back up again. That you want the world to turn without you. But you can't spend every day, for the rest of your life, thinking you don't deserve to live."

She gives a shaky laugh. "Do I?"

"More than you think. And just as much as I know Magnus would want you to."

Her face lights up. He tries not to let any tears spill, but when he sees her eyeliner start to run, he can't help it. They're both laughing through it like idiots. And with complete disregard for what any bystander might be thinking, Will leans over the table, hands in her hair; and he kisses her, in a way he's never done before.

 

.

 

Lito, like the rest of them, is relieved. But that doesn't stop the slew of sarcasm. "So you basically lived out that tiring 'quirky girl' rom-com trope that's practically owned by Zooey Deschanel?"

"Don't be silly," Wolfgang interrupts. "Obviously, my boy chased Riley across airport security to proclaim his love in front of the entire airplane."

So basically, things are back to normal. They're at Wolfgang and Kala's, and technically, the night's yet to begun; the karaoke machine is still untouched, and the pizza hasn't even arrived yet. Everybody's sitting around in the lounge; Riley's sitting on Will's lap, prompting _both_ Wolfgang _and_ Lito to scream in disgust, cover their eyes and tell them to "get a room" and "take it somewhere else" - which in turn prompts Riley to flip the bird, and Will to laugh into her shoulder.

They talk about their week, because, _boy_ , it's been a week - Hernando's art show in L.A. is moving to Florida next, so Lito has to say bye again to the gang again soon, for a while. And lest they forget, Will was shot in the shoulder by a crazy drug dealer from Riley's past. "Crazy" was kind of an understatement.

So for the rest of the night, they don't hold back.

It's all kind of a blur; at one point, Will's piggybacking Nomi; Amanita's telling Wolfgang how much she loves the shade of grey in his eyes; Sun teaches Kala how to roundhouse, and they test it out with a beer can on Capheus' shoulder; they all get a try on "What's Going On?" by Four Non Blondes (now regarded as their "theme song"), while Lito sneaks in Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You" ("for you, my love," he blows a kiss in Hernando's direction).

Will catches Wolfgang from across the room, Kala leaning on his shoulder, and they both give each other the sliest winks in the history of mankind.

Riley's left in total confusion, and all he's left to do is squeeze her hand tighter before planting a kiss, promising a quieter, black-coffee oriented tomorrow.


End file.
